


Got to Let You (Let Me Down)

by Astrarian



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Post-The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27508072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrarian/pseuds/Astrarian
Summary: Triss had forgotten how awful it felt to miss Geralt even when he was right there.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Triss Merigold
Kudos: 11





	Got to Let You (Let Me Down)

One evening, Triss walked through the front door and immediately noticed that Geralt’s swords weren’t in their usual places on their assigned rack, the one less than an arm’s reach from the back of the door.

She found him brewing Swallow potions in his workroom, the distinct odours of strong spirits and monster blood drifting as far as the doorway. He leaned over his workbench, back to the door although he must have heard her arriving home, empty bottles to his left and a small collection of filled bottles building up on his right. The swords rested in their scabbards beside him, propped against a bookshelf.

“What’s the job?” she asked him.

Geralt straightened up, turning towards her. She noticed that his hands were stained as he put down a bloody knife. “Not a job,” he said.

She knew immediately. Struggled to stop her face from falling with her heart.

“Oh,” she said. “I see.”

“Triss, I...”

“No, it’s fine,” she interrupted. “I understand. Good luck on the Path.”

She wanted to tell him that after more than a year of being settled together she’d thought that he’d changed. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t. 

He smiled at her. “I won’t be leaving for a few days,” he said. Triss felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle as he stepped closer, towering over her, gaze intense. “Wanna make a few memories to keep me company.”

She smiled for him. “Well, take a bath first, and then we can make a start on that.”

“Could start sooner,” he murmured. “Gonna join me?” He reached out, although he stopped short of touching her, noticing for himself that his hands weren’t clean.

“Yes,” she said. Behind the word, her throat filled with an old, unwelcome sensation.

Later that night, Triss opened the window to let the cool spring air freshen their muggy bedroom. In the bed Geralt didn’t move a muscle, so deeply asleep that even in the midst of her yearning Triss couldn’t stand to disturb him.

Across her bare chest, little scratches inflicted by Geralt’s medallion as they made love stung in the chill. Pulling a blanket up around her shoulders, Triss looked at the scars that criss-crossed Geralt’s body. She thought about the monsters that had inflicted them. She thought about his hands on her body and then about the fact that soon, they wouldn’t hold her at all. They’d curl around the hilt of his sword and cast crude signs instead, trying to keep him safe.

She’d forgotten how awful it felt to miss Geralt even when he was right there.


End file.
